


lover's spit (left on repeat)

by hoodiemalum



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Drunk Sex, First Kiss, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Partying, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodiemalum/pseuds/hoodiemalum
Summary: It’s not every night but it’s pretty often and Billy would be lying if he said it wasn’t the best thing to happen to him in this shithole of a town.





	lover's spit (left on repeat)

It’s something they do now. Billy comes over late at night, after Neil has fallen asleep on the couch, beer bottle condensing on the wood table in front of him. Steve’s usually waiting for him, sometimes he’s smoking on his front stairs, socked feet dragging over the warm cement of summer. The front door is open behind him, light pouring out, illuminating his features, contrasting with the dark night. 

Other days he’s inside, dancing around his living room with the newest record on blast, already tipsy. Those days are Billy’s favorite. Steve’s so light, filled with warmth and sunshine. It leaks out of his pores when they kiss, covers Billy with giddiness, with smiles that neither of them can hide. 

Most days Steve’s sitting in his recliner, facing the ever-closed pool watching the twinkle of lights floating out of the poolhouse. Those days Billy just sighs, closes the shades, and makes himself comfortable. Waits until Steve moves towards him, seeks out Billy himself, lets Steve take the lead. Those nights are quiet, slow, different than the usual sex Steve and Billy have. There are tender fingers, murmurs exchanged between them. Billy lets himself stay a little longer than usual, leaves Steve with a kiss.

The thing is they’ve been doing this for a while now. Ever since New Years, where both Billy and Steve had found themselves at Tommy’s New Year Bash, alone. Billy just needed to get out of the house, and he knew Tommy’s meant free beer, weed, maybe if he was lucky a girl would fall for his charm, let him fuck her in the back of his Camaro. He didn’t expect to see Steve there, let alone Steve partying with a red cup in each hand. It was a weird sight, Steve smiling, eyes glazed over, in the middle of the crowd again. _King Steve_ , Billy’s brain supplied. _This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for._

So Billy lights up a cigarette, grabs a cup, and lets himself be pushed into the middle. Right across from Steve. It’s surreal, Billy and Steve, pulled in together, dancing as if they hadn’t almost killed each other a couple of months ago. Well, like Billy hadn’t almost killed Steve. But bygones are bygones, forgotten and forgiven after nights of shitty small talk, cherry red cigarettes, and music flowing out of Billy's broken stereo. And right now all Billy wants to do is feel King Steve against his back, pushing slightly into his warmth. It feels good, feels like being back in California. They end up dancing for a while, sometimes a girl gets pushed in between them or Billy changes his position so he can no longer feel Steve. But within seconds, Steve’s right back to where he was, moves casually into Billy’s circle again without warning, igniting something in Billy's very gut.

It feels like hours later when Billy breaks off from the little dance session they have going on, walks out onto Tommy’s front porch, lights another cigarette. He’s watching the couple on the other side of the porch, leaning so heavily into each other if he squints it looks like one person swaying. He can feel someone sit down next to him, turns his head slightly to see Steve smiling. They share a cigarette, then another one and somewhere far off fireworks go off. It’s not midnight yet, but Billy feels as if he’s catapulted into the New Year. Steve flinches just a little, body recoils before he’s back, lazy smile plastered back on. His hand is laying right there, on the broken stairs of Tommy's front porch. Billy reaches over, watches Steve's face as he lets his pinky drag over Steve's cold hand. There's something in Steve's eyes, something drawing him in, closer. The sound of drunken teenagers yelling the countdown fills the air, breaks the stilting silence and then suddenly it’s one and Steve’s kissing him right there in the open Indiana air.

Billy can hear the fireworks, can feel them in his very core. The world's shifting just a tiny bit, every burst pushes him further into Steve's space. Until all Billy can do is take. Take Steve's breath into his own, crowd up in the space between them. It takes a few more kisses and then Billy’s like, _you wanna see my car, pretty boy_ and they’re fucking in the back of Billy’s Camaro. It’s not what he hoped for, but somehow this is better and after they’re done Steve grabs what’s left of the cigarettes and walks out the door. 

Billy goes home reeking of sex and sweat, takes a cold shower, and immediately falls into the wildest night of sleep he’s had since he’s been in Hawkins. Steve Harrington haunts his dreams, not for the first time but it's bittersweet. He knows the real thing now, knows the way Steve sounds when he's close, the patterns of constellations that scatter his back, can feel Steve's phantom fingers on his body. The next morning, he’s still keyed up, but walking back into Hawkins High it’s as if nothing’s changed. Sure they’re are some new haircuts, cheesy jokes about last year, but Steve walks past him in the hallway. Billy doesn’t even get a hey. 

It takes a little while, more coaxing on Billy’s part, but soon Steve and him have a good thing going. They give each other a signal when they see each other, a simple tug of the ear, and that very night Billy pulls into the Harrington driveway, bag of condoms in his hand. It’s simple, easy, no feelings, no _please stay the night_ that Billy gets with the girls in this town. It’s usually hard, fast, something that leaves bruises, fills the air in Steve’s room with humidity and sweat. Billy leaves right after, Steve just rolls over in bed, lets Billy gather up whatever they threw around in his room and simply says _lock the door on the way out_ before he’s falling asleep. It’s not every night but it’s pretty often and Billy would be lying if he said it wasn’t the best thing to happen to him in this shithole of a town. 

And then Steve lets himself slip a couple of times, brings out the softness in Billy when he sees the darkness under his eyes. The nights where Steve doesn't really talk, just kinda stares out in the nothingness of the night. Billy's lets himself be different, smooths out his edges, relaxes the tension in his shoulders. They kiss slower, heat and intention lining their mouths. Everything feels heavier, laden with this feeling that neither Billy or Steve will admit to each other. But then Billy reminds himself, this is not something he's allowed to have. This is not something he will get to keep. So he waits until Steve's eyes are closed, can hear the soft breathing of sleep, kisses his forehead and leaves. One day Billy will let himself stay longer, maybe he'll wake up with Steve buried in his chest. Just maybe, one day Billy can sleep without Neil Hargove's fists hanging over his head.

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil something before season 3 :')
> 
> title comes from 'ribs' by lorde.  
> i am completely obsessed with her work, it makes me feel some very specific type of way.


End file.
